


Marriage of Inconvenience

by Inell



Series: 2017 Prompt Challenge [36]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Companionable Snark, FBI Agent Stiles Stilinski, Friends to Lovers, Future Fic, Getting Together, Isaac Lahey & Scott McCall Friendship, Kissing, Lots of kissing, M/M, Mutual Pining, Scott & Isaac are Roommates, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Bromance, Teacher Isaac Lahey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-09-22 08:00:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9594683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inell/pseuds/Inell
Summary: Stiles needs a fake husband for a weekend work retreat. Since Scott's already got plans, Isaac volunteers to help him out.





	

**Author's Note:**

> dragon-temeraire said: Maybe Stiles/Isaac with "My boss thinks I’m married. Help me out for a weekend retreat?"
> 
> I’m not sure if this is what you had in mind, bb, but it’s where the muse took me. I hope you enjoy it! Fic #36 in my 2017 Prompt Challenge

“Scotty. Are you home?”

“Why do you have a key to our apartment?” Isaac looks up and frowns as Stiles just walks in like he pays part of their rent. He doesn’t, for the record.

“I made a copy. Duh.” Stiles smirks at him, and Isaac has to curl his fingers into his palm to keep from just punching his smug face. “Like you didn’t already know that.”

“Stiles! Dude, what are you doing here?” Scott stumbles out of the bathroom, toothpaste still dripping off his bottom lip. Isaac sighs because he’s surrounded by children trapped in the bodies of twenty-six year olds. “I didn’t know you were coming over tonight!”

“Didn’t plan on it, but I need you, Scott.” Stiles walks over and plops down on the sofa right next to Isaac, his elbow catching him in the gut as he makes himself comfortable like it’s his sofa instead of Isaac’s. He mutters, “Sorry,” but Isaac can hear the trip in his heartbeat that means he’s a fucking liar.

“Are not,” he mutters in response, taking more than a little satisfaction at the oomph Stiles lets out when Isaac ‘accidentally’ elbows him back.

“Now I’m not,” Stiles says, elbowing him hard in the ribs.

“You weren’t the first time. I could hear you lying.” Isaac reaches out to drag his fingers over Stiles’ ribs, smirking when he hears the broken laugh as Stiles tries to get away.

“Uh, guys?” Scott clears his throat and is giving them a rather weak attempt at judgmental eyebrow. Derek was Isaac’s alpha for months, though, so he knows what real judgmental eyebrow is supposed to look like. Scott can’t pull it off.

“Oh. Right.” Stiles straightens up. “So, it’s a long story that I won’t bore you with, but, uh, my boss thinks I’m married. Help me out for a weekend retreat?"

“What?” Scott frowns. “Stiles, how could your boss think you’re married? You haven’t even dated anyone seriously since you and Lydia broke up freshman year.”

“And who does your boss think is crazy enough to actually _want_ to marry you?” Isaac asks, smiling sweetly when Stiles glares at him. He totally ignores Scott’s choked cough because he just knows it must be at his expense.

“Lots of people would love to be all up on this, jerkface.” Stiles motions at himself, and Isaac momentarily gets distracted by his freaky long fingers. “Joanna knows what a catch I am, and now she’s insisting that I bring Mr. Stilinski to the weekend retreat so she can meet the lucky man who captured my heart. It’s romantic, really, except for the fact that the only Mr. Stilinski besides myself is my dad. Therein lies my dilemma for the weekend.”

“Stiles, are you sure you didn’t fall asleep watching Hallmark again?” Scott looks like he wants to laugh when Stiles groans, but he manages not to. That’s the reason he’s a true alpha, and Isaac’s just a beta. Because Isaac can’t help but laugh.

“That was one time, Scott. And it was Lifetime, not Hallmark. That’s the reason I was convinced that Mr. Stanley was secretly plotting to kill Mrs. Stanley so he could run off with the postwoman.” Stiles shakes a finger at Scott. “However, I seem to remember a certain vow of friendship being sworn regarding forgetting that whole thing even happened. Yet here you are, using it against me for your amusement, and Chuckles the Clown over there is crying from laughing so hard. Thanks a bunch, buddy.”

“I’m not a clown.” Isaac punches Stiles’ arm lightly, careful not to hit hard enough to bruise because he’s learned over the years just how easily Stiles _does_ bruise. “I hate clowns.”

“I know! I can’t stand the evil, creepy things,” Stiles agrees, sharing a momentary smile of camaraderie before he realizes he’s sharing it with Isaac. “But you’ve got clown hair so whatever.”

“Great comeback,” Isaac deadpans. Sometimes dealing with Stiles reminds him of his students. Only they’re all in second grade, and Stiles is supposedly a grown man. His eyes move over Stiles’ body, and he makes a mental correction. He’s definitely all man physically, but he still acts like a reckless kid half the time.

“Yeah, yeah. We all know you’re president of the Stiles Stilinski fan club,” Stiles says as he pats Isaac on the head. Isaac moves his head back and snaps at Stiles’ fingers, letting his fangs grow just enough to be threatening. Stiles just laughs. “Oooh. Scary.”

“Stop provoking Isaac, Stiles.” Scott is rubbing his temples, and Isaac feels a pang of guilt for adding to the headache that is Hurricane Stiles. “And Isaac. Stop trying to bite Stiles.” Scott’s nostrils flare, and Isaac shifts uncomfortably because it’s so damn embarrassing that his alpha knows how much Stiles gets to him. In a turning him on kind of way.

“Yeah. Stop trying to bite me, _Isaac_.” Stiles grins at him before turning his gaze back on Scott. “So, will you help me out? It’s a free weekend vacation, dude. All on the bureau. They’re doing some team bonding bullshit that’s supposed to help us become closer as a team. We might have to roast marshmallows and sing campfire songs, knowing Joanna. Since I’m the newbie, there’s a lot of pressure to play nice.”

“Man, I’d totally jump at the chance to be your fake husband, Stiles, but I’ve already got plans.” Scott pouts. “I paid for the tickets or I’d definitely back out cause I know Kira’d understand, but there’s no refund.”

“Damn. That’s this weekend?” Stiles makes a face, and Isaac can smell the sour scent of disappointing in the air. “Scotty, I wouldn’t let you reschedule reunion weekend with Kira anyway. I know you two have been talking a lot lately, and you know how much I adore her. If you two can get back together, you’ll have babies for me to spoil, and I’ll be the awesome godfather. Not the creepy murdering kind like Brando.”

“I’ll do it.” Isaac’s eyes widen as he realizes that _he’s_ the one who just blurted that out. Scott looks at him with concern while Stiles turns and blinks at him. “I mean, I’ve got a free weekend. No singing, though.”

“Thanks for the offer, but no way.” Stiles shakes his head, and Isaac’s glad he isn’t paying attention because he misses the way Isaac flinches at his adamant protest. Scott gives him a sympathetic frown, and Isaac glares because, honestly, he isn’t that obvious, is he? Stiles snorts. “Joanna would know it was fake if I showed up with some hot guy who should be a male model. She’d probably think I paid an escort, then I’d be fired for breaking the law.”

“Hey, wait. Should I be offended that you think she’d believe I was married to you?” Scott asks, frowning at Stiles.

“Nah. Cause you’re Scott. You’re cute but approachable. Isaac is like an Armani ad with the angelic face and pretty blue eyes and curls you just want to rake your fingers through.” Stiles’ scent changes slightly, and Isaac can’t help arching his brow because _that’s_ a familiar scent. “And I’m shutting up about that now. The point is, I’m a reasonably good-looking guy, but I’m hyperactive and I talk too much and there’s no way I’d ever land a guy that looks like that. Not to mention the whole adorable with kids thing. If he was just the snarky asshole we all know and love, it might work, but he isn’t. He’s that and a whole lot more.”

“Stiles, shut up. You’re giving me a headache,” Scott says, studying Stiles and doing that silent communication thing that Isaac is very jealous of. Scott slowly smiles and blinks. “Huh. Guess I missed that.”

“Missed what?” Isaac is the one who feels like he’s missed something here.

“Nothing.” Stiles laughs and drags his fingers through his hair. “Missed Scott being a comedian because he isn’t one. He’s not funny at all.”

“I crack myself up all the time,” Scott says dryly. “On that note, I’m heading out to grab us some food. Stay for dinner, Stiles. You and Isaac can talk more about your passionate marriage while I’m gone.” He leers at them and waggles his eyebrows like an idiot.

“I’m starting to rethink my choice of alpha,” Isaac tells him.

“That’s the twelfth time today. Might set a new record if we keep up this pace.” Scott just grins and dodges the pillow that Isaac throws at him. “I’m going to that Italian place on the other side of town. That should give you two plenty of time to talk.”

“Talk. Right.” Stiles pushes himself off the sofa and starts pacing as Scott leaves the apartment. Isaac is familiar with Stiles’ thinking process, so he just reaches for the remote and starts flipping channels, settling on a DIY show. “Did you really mean it?”

“Mean what?” Isaac looks away from the furniture shopping to stare at Stiles, who is a little flushed and a lot nervous. His heartbeat is going nuts, and Isaac doesn’t get it. He’s done the fangs nipping thing a lot of times over the past few years, so Stiles can’t be scared about that.

“The fake marriage thing.” Stiles sits in the lumpy chair that only Scott really likes, tapping his foot and drumming his fingers against his thigh. “You’d be able to pretend to be head over heels for me for an entire weekend?”

“I’m sure I could manage,” Isaac mutters, rolling his eyes. “But you already refused. Remember? My angelic face, wasn’t it?”

“I still think there’s no way anyone I work with is going to think someone like me was able to put a ring on someone like you, but it’s not like I have many options.” Stiles shrugs. “I said it was a guy, so that rules out Lydia and Malia. Liam would probably agree, but that’s just…no. He’s like my kid. Sort of. God, that sounds weird.”

“Liam couldn’t fake being anything but straight,” Isaac points out, growling just a little at the thought of Liam fake making out with Stiles all weekend.

“Yeah. That too.” Stiles sighs. “Mason is too nice to ask to lie, and Jordan is working all weekend or he might be willing.”

“I’m not too nice to ask to lie?” Isaac narrows his eyes. “Jordan wouldn’t agree because you had that crush on him the summer you came back from freshman year. He’d think he was leading you on when he isn’t interested in you like that.”

“I didn’t have a crush on him,” Stiles says, scowling as he taps his foot a little faster. “He and I hooked up a few times, and it almost got messy but it didn’t.”

“You what?” Isaac doesn’t even realize he’s stabbed the pillow he’s holding with his claws until Stiles’ heartbeat rabbits.

“Hey now. Put the claws away. Good puppy.” Stiles is totally still, and Isaac feels a flash of guilt for losing control like he’s a new beta.

“I’m not a fucking puppy.” Isaac stands up and glares at him. “If you and _Jordan_ are so close, go ask him. I’m sure your dad would give him a weekend off.”

“Dude, what suddenly pissed in your Cheerios?” Stiles is on his face following Isaac out of the living room. “I’m not ‘so close’ with Jordan. It was a hand job in the Jungle bathroom and a blow job at the station. He’s not into bottoming, and I like variety. What does it matter to you, Isaac? The way you’re acting, I’d think you were jealous if I didn’t know you can’t stand me.”

“Can’t stand you?” Isaac turns quickly, moving so fast that Stiles bumps right into him. He reaches out to keep him from falling, the scent of arousal stronger as he leans into Stiles’ personal space. “That was back in high school, when everything was kind of fucked up. People grow up and change, though, genius. Well, _some_ people do.”

“No, it was like thirty minutes ago when you were elbowing me and trying to shove me off the couch like I was encroaching on your territory.” Stiles is several inches shorter than him, but he’s got so much confidence and bravado that Isaac sometimes feels like he’s the one looking up instead. “You wanna talk about some people not growing up? Maybe look in the mirror, Curly Sue.”

“You started it!” Isaac grabs Stiles’ finger before it can press against his chest again. “You just come in here like you belong and take over my spot and you get under my skin with every smirk and smug smile and sarcastic word and you drive me so fucking crazy,” he growls before he pulls Stiles in and kisses him hard. When he realizes what he’s doing, he lets go and steps back. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—“

“Shut up, Isaac,” Stiles says, pulling his head back down and kissing him like he’s in total control.

He is, Isaac realizes, and he lets him go with it because Isaac’s always been more of a follower than a leader. He follows Stiles into his bedroom and down onto his bed and he rolls over until Stiles is on top of him, kissing him in a way he hasn’t been kissed in a long time. It’s just kissing, which is surprising but nice. There’s no rutting or grinding or hands moving all over. Instead, it’s just their lips moving together, hands touching soft hair and warm necks.

Stiles eventually pulls back. Possibly to breathe because Isaac’s not sure he even remembers how right now. His eyes are dazed and his lips are swollen as he blinks down at Isaac. “We just kissed,” he whispers.

“I know. I was there, too,” Isaac says, unable to _not_ be a smartass.

“Why’d you kiss me?” Stiles asks, looking into his eyes in a way that makes Isaac realize he’s got one chance to not fuck this up, and this is it.

Without letting his nerves get to him, he leans up. “You should be kissed and often. By someone who knows how,” he breathes out, not even a whisper as his breath ghosts across Stiles’ lips.

“Did you seriously just Rhett Butler me?” Stiles blinks at him but his lips are twitching.

“It was my mom’s favorite movie,” Isaac admits quietly. “I liked that part because I wanted to find someone to say it to.”

“My mom loved Casablanca. They probably would have been friends since they both liked unhappy ending romance movies.” Stiles leans down and nuzzles at his neck. “Kiss me. Kiss me as it were the last time.”

So Isaac does. He kisses him thoroughly, channeling all of his emotions into each lick of his tongue and each nip of his teeth. Stiles returns the kiss with a lot of enthusiasm and passion, and Isaac rolls them over so he’s able to pin Stiles to his bed. His sheets will smell like him tonight, a thought that makes him groan and roll his hips suddenly. He pulls back and sucks in a few deep breaths. “We should probably stop.”

“Yeah. I just found out that your idea of flirting is to be an asshole for years,” Stiles says, putting his hand over Isaac’s mouth before he can say pot, kettle. “Whereas I assumed you could smell my lust for you and would know how much I enjoy being around you and snarking about everything.”

Isaac licks his palm, which makes him wrinkle his nose and pull his hand back. “I try not to use my senses on friends because it’s sort of an invasion of privacy. I mean, you always stink of lust, have since you were sixteen, so that’s just how you smell. I didn’t know it was personal.”

“Lust stinks?” Stiles asks, totally missing the point. Of course.

“Sometimes. You smell kinda like spice and come, which isn’t that stinky.” Isaac leans down to nuzzle Stiles’ neck, scenting him so everyone will know Stiles is his. No, not his. That he’s Stiles’, if anything, because Stiles would probably kick his ass if he ever got possessive werewolf on him.

“Thanks. I can see the bloom is already wearing off the rose, and we just got fake married.” Stiles is totally teasing, and Isaac smiles against his throat. “Not that stinky is so romantic, Isaac.”

“I know. I’m a poetic kind of guy.” Isaac licks his way up Stiles’ neck and then kisses him again. He can do this now. He can kiss Stiles and Stiles kisses him back instead of shoving him away the way Isaac always feared he might. When he pulls back from the kiss, he can’t help smiling smugly at the passion-dazed look in Stiles’ eyes. “How long does your boss think you’ve been married?”

“Uh. Huh?” Stiles blinks and then smiles. “Oh, like six months. We got a transfer in, this old dude who works Intel, and he wouldn’t take no for an answer, so I bought a ring to wear, which made him back off. I’ve only been there a year, so I’m not going to make any waves, you know? Fake husband was better than sexual harassment complaints.”

“Is he going to be at this retreat?” Isaac knows his eyes are flashing, but all he can think about right now is some creepy old guy trying to pressure Stiles into sex.

“Nope. It’s just my team, and they’re all pretty cool.” Stiles smirks. “But that whole going feral on his ass thing you were thinking about is pretty damn hot.”

“Shut up,” Isaac mutters, burying his face against Stiles’ neck because he’s embarrassed at being so obvious.

“No way. You’re fake married to me until Monday, dude. That means you’re stuck with me,” Stiles reminds him, tugging on his hair until they’re kissing again. Kissing Stiles is better than Isaac imagined, especially the way he just devotes himself to kissing without trying to escalate stuff physically the way Isaac figured he’d be. Stiles obviously enjoys kissing, which is great because it’s one of Isaac’s favorite things to do.

The sound of the door slamming breaks them apart. It’s soon followed by Scott groaning. “Really guys? I bring food and you repay me by stinking up the apartment with your hormones? Thanks a lot!”

“You know you love us, Scotty,” Stiles calls out, grinning up at Isaac. “If you’re not nice, you can’t be best man at our fake wedding.”

“Yeah, I’ll have to call Jackson and have him fly back in to be best man,” Isaac adds, smirking when Stiles starts laughing until he snorts.

“Take that back!” Scott runs into his room and jumps on the bed with them. “Thank god you aren’t naked. I didn’t smell sex, so I figured I was safe.” He play wrestles with them until they’re laughing and swatting each other away. Isaac ends up leaning against the headboard with Stiles resting between his legs and Scott facing them from the footboard. Scott is grinning widely, and Isaac rolls his eyes because Scott’s such a dork. “I’m totally best man when you are two fake married. Or real married. Calling it now, losers.”

“We haven’t even been on a date yet. You might want to stop planning our wedding now,” Stiles says, kicking Scott’s leg.

“If you can marry me off to Kira and be Godfather, I can totally plan your wedding. I’m thinking something during the summer, outside maybe?” Scott laughs when Stiles pounces on him, and Isaac just shakes his head as he watches them roll around.

More immature than his second graders, he decides. His lips curve into an affectionate smile when Stiles lets out a victorious cheer, and he almost groans as he realizes that he _is_ the president of the Stiles Stilinski fan club. Reaching out, he grabs Stiles and pulls him off his alpha, maneuvering him back into the spot between his legs, tucking him up against his chest where he belongs. Isaac nuzzles his neck, happily listening to Stiles tell Scott about the weekend retreat, adding his own sarcastic commentary occasionally while doing his best to ignore Scott’s sappy smile.


End file.
